


Binds Of Iron

by Kendrene



Series: Binds Of Iron, Binds Of Blood [2]
Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Alpha Doc, Alpha Nicole, Alpha Wynonna, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Sex, Angst, F/F, Fingering, G!P Nicole, Gun Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Major Character Injury, Mating Bites, Mating Bond, Mentions of past child abuse, Omega Waverly, Oral Sex, Smut, mentions of marital abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-24
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-01-22 10:11:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12479192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kendrene/pseuds/Kendrene
Summary: Following up the events of Snow Patrol, Nicole and Waverly have to deal with the consequences of Nicole's bargain with the Iron Witch, while the whole town is threatened by the impeding rising of Bulshar Clootie.What did Nicole promise the Iron Witch? And how can she get herself out of the deal?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, if you have not read Snow Patrol, this ties directly into it and it helps understand some of the plot. To the people that read and followed me here - nice to see you again! To the new readers, be welcome!
> 
> As always please heed the tags - I will add extra warnings/tags in the pertinent chapters. I appreciate every kudo and comment I receive, so I'd like to thank you all who take the time in advance as well.
> 
> Happy reading.
> 
> \- Dren

The kitchen was quiet. 

And it wasn’t that kind of relaxed, companionable silence people that loved each other shared after a night of lovemaking. It was awkward, and Waverly’s skin itched with it. 

Nicole had been sitting at the table, eyes glued to its scuffed surface, since she’d shuffled into the room, her scent masked under that of lavender soap. Waverly missed the distinct tang of their mixed arousal, but she’d been the one to suggest a hot shower once Nicole had calmed enough to leave the refuge of her arms. She had taken one herself, watching the last traces of their come and her heat-sweat vanish down the drain with no small measure of regret.

On the other hand, she was glad this heat had been a short, albeit raging, one because considering last night’s revelation, a clear head would serve the both of them best. 

“Here.” She scooped out a big portion of scrambled eggs and bacon, placing the full plate in front of Nicole. “You need to eat something. Gus always says you feel better on a full stomach.”

“And does it work?” Nicole accepted the place with a wane smile. 

“No, but I make a mean breakfast.” Waverly served herself, then sat across from Nicole. Her girlfriend looked tired despite the shower, her eyes reddened by tears. Both her scent and demeanor had changed. The darker part of her Alpha had returned back to wherever it slept, deep under everything else that Nicole was. Strangely, knowing that there was a measure of aggression inside her reassured Waverly, and now she understood why - where any other Alpha with a lick of sense would have run screaming - Nicole had stood her ground, and faced down Revenants and demons by their side. They would need her help more than ever against Bulshar. He would rise soon - he had begun to stir, and the earth shook with his thrashing as if his presence was violating the ground itself - but he was a concern for a later day. 

Right now she needed to think about Nicole. 

“You are right, you do make a mean breakfast.” Nicole forced her smile wider, and took a few bites of the eggs. But the fork was rattling a little against the plate, and Waverly could see how much it was costing her to be brave.

Now it was Waverly’s turn to be strong for them both.

They ate in almost complete silence, the quiet broken only by the house groaning around them, the windowpanes rattling whenever the wind picked up. Rather, Waverly ate - the heat having left her starved - and Nicole pushed the food around her plate, forcing down a bite every now and then to honor her cooking. 

It made Waverly’s heart clench to see her usually bright girlfriend so subdued, and she racked her brain for something - anything - that she could say to ease Nicole’s mind a little.

But all the things that were born on the tip of her tongue were parts of a question. In the end, she sighed and brought her mug to her lips, frowning when she found it empty.

She reached for the pot of coffee she had placed in the middle of the table, and her hand closed around another.

“Oh.” Waverly felt heat rush to her cheeks.

“Sorry…” Nicole mumbled at the same time, a blush as fierce as her own reddening her cheekbones. 

The touch sent little shocks up Waverly’s arm, and warmth as well, the realisation that it was their first physical interaction since they had gotten out of bed hitting her like a brick launched at the speed of light. 

She almost jerked her hand back, apologies piling up inside her, but then Nicole’s fingers interlaced with hers, and when she raised her eyes, she found the soft smile she had come to love so well greeting her. 

“Can I pour you more coffee?” Nicole asked gently, smile wavering a little around the words.

“Please.” 

Waverly squeezed her girlfriend’s hand before letting go, both of them dropping their gaze to stare at the tabletop, as if they were on their first date. 

“The food is very good,” Nicole ventured after a while, “I am sorry I am not that hungry.” 

“It’s ok,” Waverly reached across the table to pat her hand, “Nicole…”

“Yeah?” 

“Would you...tell me about her?” She raised her gaze, catching Nicole’s and dragging it upwards until they were yet again staring at each other. The Alpha’s eyes had cleared a little, even though deep shadows lingered underneath, and she had regained a bit of color. Waverly expected her to flinch at the question - and mentally kicked herself for not having thought of a better way to ask - but Nicole didn’t, her gaze simply acquiring a faraway sort of dull light. 

“I meant to tell you,” her hands tightened around the coffee mug, “and then…” She gestured between them, “last night happened. I didn’t know you were in heat, and when I figured it out...Waverly, I…”

“Hush, I know.” Waverly covered Nicole’s hands with her own.

“No, I need to say this. I didn’t sleep with you just because you were in heat. I’ve  _ wanted _ you so badly for… “ Nicole laughed shakily, “quite some time now. But I wanted to talk about Shae first. And now look the mess I’ve made.”

Waverly simply entwined their fingers, her thumbs rubbing soothing circles on the back of Nicole’s hands. It hurt a bit that Nicole hadn’t told her about Shae before, but she understood that for the Alpha, what had happened between her and her ex-mate may very well equal a failure. Waverly had understood long ago that Nicole wasn’t a typical Alpha, and it was part of the reason why she had fallen so hard for her, her girlfriend’s charm and sweet nature far outweighing an Alpha’s predisposition for cruelty. Voicing what had happened with her ex-mate was, for Nicole, like picking at a healing wound. And besides that, it had taken Waverly some time to reveal what Champ had tried to do to her. 

If there was one thing she sympathized with, because Purgatory itself had forced it on her skin like cattle brand, that thing was shame. 

“How did you meet her?” Waverly pulled one of her hands away, cupping Nicole’s cheek gently. The Alpha’s eyes were full of grief, not for the loss - Waverly knew - but because her girlfriend was processing, burying the woman she’d been. It made her wonder if Nicole had ever talked about it with anyone before, and knowing how she tended to handle her problems - stubbornly and alone as if unused to someone being there to help - Waverly doubted it. The same set of rules that governed Nicole requested she also shoulder all her burdens alone as her morality would not allow for anything less. 

In Waverly’s opinion, that was a good way to break - because that kind of attitude could easily turn into soul-eating guilt, and she’d seen enough of that with Wynonna. It had turned her sister bad for a time, reckless in a way the people around her had chalked up to the older Earp being a born criminal, but Waverly knew better. 

Wynonna had destroyed her life to punish herself for their father’s death and, gazing into Nicole’s haunted eyes now, Waverly swore she would not let the woman she loved do the same. 

Nor walk away from her. 

“We…” Nicole gave a dry chuckle and turned her head, smothering the broken sound against the palm of Waverly’s hand. “As cliched as this will sound, we met in Vegas.” 

“Gambling?” Waverly failed to keep surprise out of her voice. She hadn’t pegged Nicole as someone liking that kind of stuff.

“God, no.” Nicole’s chuckle was better this time, talking about her past serving as a way to let out some of the pressure she must be feeling. “Rock-climbing.” 

An image of Nicole decked out in climbing gear flashed before her eyes and Waverly blushed. Of course it had to be something extremely hot and life-threatening. Much like Nicole in uniform.

“Well,” the Alpha amended with a blush of embarrassment, “I was rock-climbing and she stitched me back together when I had an accident.” She regaled her with a grin that Waverly just had to return. 

“I think we both mistook infatuation for love,” Nicole continued, her gaze lowering again, “and we...just jumped into things. And then once we were mated, we tried to make it work, until things began to fall apart around us. 

“And after you looked for an Iron Witch?” Waverly could see fresh tears shine on Nicole’s cheeks before they dropped down over their clasped hands and in the Alpha’s coffee. 

Her girlfriend nodded. “Shae wasn’t happy, and I hated the idea of keeping her tied to me when it was clear neither of us wanted it anymore. I... _ cared _ about her, but we had fallen out of that initial love and we couldn’t rekindle the flame.” Nicole took a shuddering breath and squeezed Waverly’s hand before pulling back to raise her mug to her lips. 

She took a sip of coffee more to disguise nerves than anything else Waverly guessed, and made a face. By now the drink must have turned cold.

“Nicole…” Waverly struggled to form her next question, a sudden fear twisting her stomach into knots. “Are...are you afraid the same will happen to us?” Nicole had said she loved her, but...

A searing pain jolted through her like a bolt of lightning as soon as the words tumbled onto the table. She remembered how she’d felt when Willa had shot Nicole, and later what she had almost cost them all for having stupidly sought the help of their local Iron Witch. 

Perhaps things would have been different if Gretta hadn’t harbored such a grudge against the Earp family, but what Waverly recalled best of those moments was the pain. It had bled her insides with the same sharpness one must experience after swallowing a mouthful of crushed glass, and as she refused to accept that Nicole could die, her heart had turned into a wasteland. She had done a foolish thing, a  _ desperate _ thing, and in the process she understood how love could make people cross lines that they’d sworn they would never even step near. 

The difference between her and Nicole was that she accepted that a certain darkness came with the Earp name - in her case not by blood, but osmosis - and with it the potential to do questionable things. Ward Earp had found his darkness at the bottom of a whiskey bottle and - when this blackness descended over him - in the  _ whack  _ of his belt buckle against his wife’s flesh. In Wynonna’s case, it was a restlessness that lead to trouble - the kind which was often bad in the eyes of the law. 

As for Waverly, well, she supposed that Mikshun finding a vessel in her was answer enough.

But Nicole was too good to accept that even actions meant in earnest help could hurt people, and while Waverly was slowly making peace with the bad she’d caused, it was obvious that the Alpha hadn’t even started to. 

Nicole had raised a hand to her throat, absentmindedly scratching a spot until her skin turned red. It must be the place where the mating bite had been. When Waverly’s question finally registered, she snatched her hand away, eyes widening in shock.

“No!” She reached out to grasp Waverly’s fingers so quick that the back of her hand slammed into the coffee mug. It tilted sideways, dangerously close to spilling what was left of the morning’s brew, before Nicole caught it.

The Alpha set the cup aside with exaggerated care before turning her full attention back to Waverly. 

“When you were possessed…” she started, then paused and shrugged apologetically, the memory an unpleasant one for them both, “I knew something was amiss. You smelled different, you tasted different when I kissed you.” 

Waverly nodded, even though truth be told, there were still patches of utter darkness shrouding her memories. She’d tried to pull back the curtain several times, and always came away sweaty and with a rancid taste in her mouth. It made her wonder what Mikshun may have done while in her body, that her mind had shut away in order to retain sanity. 

“And then in the barn after Wynonna killed Mikshun, I…” The Alpha took a shaky breath. “I was cradling you and I kept thinking,  _ what if it can still harm her _ . You probably don’t remember, but you were so pale...weak… I thought for a moment you may die in my arms, and it made me want to rip my heart out of my chest.”

Nicole’s hands closed over hers and the Alpha gently brought them to her mouth to kiss her knuckles. 

“Waverly Earp. I don’t know how to get out of this mess, but I do  _ know  _ that I love you like I’ve never loved anyone before.” Her voice had a tender lilt that made Waverly want to cry and clear the table with one jump to pull Nicole into her chest. 

She loved every side of her - and dearly - but this fragile part of Nicole made her fiercely protective. The Alpha let out a small noise, almost a whimper, and Waverly realized she had involuntarily begun to pump out soothing pheromones. Nicole’s eyes had glazed over and she was leaning forward, mouth agape and nostrils flaring slightly as she breathed Waverly in.

“Uh...sorry.” The Alpha’s brain caught up with her and she shook herself out of her stupor, cheeks flushing a bright red. 

Waverly did get up then and, quickly walking around the table, she pulled Nicole into a hug. 

“It’ll be ok,” she murmured, dipping her head to bury her nose in Nicole’s hair. “Somehow it’ll be ok..” 

The Alpha nuzzled her face into her stomach, arms going around Waverly’s waist, and as always when some obstacle faced them, they held each other, finding strength in their closeness.

Time trickled by, food growing cold and forgotten on the table, and then after a time, Waverly opened her mouth, ready to ask what Nicole had offered the Iron Witch.

Ready to hear her girlfriend’s answer.

The front door banged open.

“Ugh!” Wynonna stomped into the kitchen, trailing snow, “you guys won’t believe the night I -  _ what _ ?” She froze halfway from dropping in a chair, attention torn between the food they had left on the table, and Waverly’s glare. 

Waverly opened her mouth, then closed it with a click, all the replies that came to her mind nasty ones. 

“Ish she shick now?” Wynonna’s hunger had evidently won against concern over Waverly’s long-suffering look, and she’d plopped down at the table, pulling a half-full plate to herself and stuffing her face with eggs. “Uh. You noth eathing thethe are you?”

“Not anymore.” Waverly grumbled, trying to mask her irritation. Wynonna had an almost unsettling knack for bad timing.

Nicole had pulled back gently, and the scrape of her chair being pushed away from the table refocused Waverly’s attention.

“I should go, since Wynonna’s here.” The almost painful openness was gone from her face, replaced by the expression of someone that was barely able to hold themselves together. 

She hurried for the door before Waverly could somehow dissuade her, and a moment later the door opened again, this time with a soft click. 

Ignoring Wynonna’s muffled questions - interlaced with grunts of pleasure as she cleaned what had been her plate - Waverly hurried to the window, just in time to see Nicole get in the cruiser and speed away, rear wheels kicking up a cloud of snow as light as sugar powder. 

When her hands began to ache, Waverly looked down, and realized she was clutching the edge of the kitchen counter in a death-grip. 

Surely Nicole would come around, and her leaving so abruptly was just due to the embarrassment of facing Wynonna when everything was still so raw.

Nicole wasn’t running away from Waverly.

She wasn’t.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole throws all of her energies toward work, to try and distract herself from her private life problems. 
> 
> Meanwhile Waverly seeks Doc's advice on the situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween, and happy reading!
> 
> As usual kudos and comments are much appreciated!

Getting into the police car and driving away was the act of a coward. 

Nicole knew it was, and yet she had not been able to stop herself from running. She wasn’t quite sure whether it had been Wynonna’s arrival that made her snap, or the fact that Waverly had been inching closer to asking what she’d promised the Iron Witch. 

And Nicole wasn’t ready to tell her, because chances were that afterwards, the Omega would want nothing more to do with her.

Her vision misted over with tears, and Nicole took a hand off the car’s steering wheel long enough to scrub at her eyes. The township had worked quickly and the roads were clear enough that the occasional car could get by, but the dropping temperatures had turned snow to treacherous ice in several places, and the cruiser’s tires skidded more than once as she drove back to her place.

She threw a glance at her wristwatch and estimated she had enough time to get in and change before heading into work for her shift. She would also need to change into a fresh uniform, the one she’d brought back from the Homestead not exactly dirty, but reeking of Omega pheromones. She would wash it when she had time, or perhaps if she felt particularly weak, she’d bury her face in it after her shift and cry herself to sleep. 

Nicole parked the cruiser between two piles of snow and got out, hurrying up to her front door as the first gust of icy wind nipped at her face and neck.

Inside, Calamity Jane rubbed up her leg as soon as both her feet where in the house, and as always, her cat’s warm welcome managed to get a smile out of Nicole. She bent down and scratched behind her ears, getting a contented purr in return. 

“May be just you and me again soon, buddy,” she whispered, more tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. Unsolicited thoughts of her and Waverly breaking up entered her mind, and Nicole hurried deeper into the house, cat hard on her heels, as if she could outrun her own mind. 

She busied herself with filling Calamity’s food and water bowls before tossing her dirty uniform into the laundry basket. It was easier to hold the tears back if she kept her hands busy, but Nicole knew it was only a matter of time before she had a moment of quiet. 

It snuck up on her while she was in the shower, having decided to take another one just in case traces of Waverly’s heat still lingered on her skin. She had gotten too used to the scent to be able to tell, and the last thing she needed right that second was one of the deputies at the station throwing in a joke or two. 

Alphas were particularly good at picking up on certain things. And most of them were cruel about it once they did.

Showers had always been her quiet place, the one spot in the world where NIcole didn’t need to think past the pattering of hot water on her skin. Tears crept up on her unbidden - one moment she was staring blankly at the tiled wall, thinking for the hundredth time she really ought to change the dusty green color for something more cheerful - and the next thing she knew, she was crying, slumped forwards with her forearms pressed against the cold ceramic. 

 _Alpha’s don’t cry._ Her father’s voice rose from the deepest pit of her memory, a malevolent hiss full of disapproval. Nicole flinched and her stomach gave a savage twist, her body remembering nights spent without dinner as punishment for having done a thing that made her look _weak_.

She tore out of the shower swallowing a sob, not caring about the trail of water she left in her wake. Getting to her bedroom was a challenge - Nicole did so more by memory than sight - and she managed to quieten down only when she was back in uniform. 

Officer Haught stared back at her from the bedroom mirror, no indication she’d been crying, save perhaps a slight reddening of her eyes. Nicole nodded approvingly - she looked cool, professional, capable. 

 _Too bad it’s all just a lie_ , a small voice grated at the back of her head. 

She grabbed her equipment, unholstering her service gun and double-checking it before fastening her duty belt around her waist, then walked briskly to the door, stopping only to pet Calamity one last time.

No matter how fast she drove down to the Precinct, the voice in her head kept on whispering.

**********************

Waverly Earp sitting at a table by herself didn’t necessarily mean trouble. Waverly Earp, sitting by herself, checking her phone every five minutes and looking more hurt and pissed as time went by, _definitely_ did. 

Doc realized he’d been polishing the same length of counter for a good chunk of time and came to with a jerk of his shoulders. He threw a quick look around the room - there were a few taken tables, but not so many that the girl he’d hired to substitute Rosita would have trouble tending if he took a small break - and he tossed his cleaning rag in the sink. 

Nobody seemed to have noticed Waverly’s foul mood, but then again most people looked like they were in a similar pinch. Must be the snow, Doc decided, and the hassle that came with it. 

Back in his time, a good pair of snowshoes would solve the problem, but nowadays people insisted on driving their cars in every kind of weather. He owned one, too - courtesy of the late Constance Clootie - but he’d had the sense to leave it at home and slog the few miles required to open the bar. 

Then again, Doc Holliday was a sensible man, especially when it came to horses and guns. His taste in women was another matter, as he tended to fall for the ones he couldn’t have. 

“Can I get you something, darlin’?” Waverly had been so focused on her little dance - phone, fidget, menu, phone - that she jumped when he spoke, not having noted his approach. 

“I’d like my girlfriend to show up,” she grumbled, pushing the menu away irritably as he sat down across from her.

Doc took off his hat and scratched his head pensively, sparing a glance at a wall-mounted clock as he searched his brain for something to say.

Officer Haught _was_ late, by half an hour at the very least. She and Waverly had taken up the habit of sharing a quick lunch at Shorty’s when Nicole’s shift permitted, and when it didn’t, the Alpha dutifully let Waverly know. 

He leant forward, peering into her face more closely, and discovered that what looked like irritation at a distance was, in truth, worry that Waverly was trying, and failing, to conceal.

“Perhaps she’s been held up,” he nodded towards the window, “Lord knows with all this snow what the Sheriff’s deputies have to put up with today. I reckon it may be so busy she could not get to her telephone,” he still stumbled over the word, “to warn you she couldn’t make it.”

But Waverly was shaking her head, eyes lucid. “We were discussing something this morning, but… we couldn’t finish, and then she left, and she wasn’t...Nicole wasn’t…”

Doc watched her bite her lower lip and look away, and he felt at a loss. He loved Waverly dearly, but consoling folks was not his strongest suit. 

“Have you been quarreling?” he asked as gently as he knew how - which was to say dryly and to the point. He hoped that Waverly could appreciate the effort. 

“No...yes...I…” She ran a hand across her face, eyes again drawn to a phone that refused to light up. “I’m not sure. Nicole, she...did something she isn’t proud of in the past, and now doesn’t know how to fix it.”

“I daresay the fact Officer Haught _wants_ to fix her mistake, whatever that may be, is a good start.” Doc really couldn’t picture the deputy doing anything as grave as Waverly was making it sound like. “I doubt it’s as bad as striking a crooked deal with a witch,” he added with a self-deprecatory smile. 

Waverly’s face fell and he pressed his hat back on top of his head, a chill like that he’d felt the day he’d found himself at the bottom of that blasted well running down his spine.

“She...She _did_?” He sounded strangled. 

Waverly nodded.

**********************

Walking into the Precinct was like stepping into a madhouse. It was all because of the snow, Nicole supposed, as she made her way through a throng of milling deputies. Sergeant Carson spotted her and waved her over to his desk. 

“Morning, Haught.” He was a mild tempered Beta, more concerned with finally getting to retirement than bullying his deputies around, but that morning he looked harried. “I’m pairing you with Millard today. I know you usually work alone, but we’ve got some cars stuck ‘cause of the snow, and fucking Baily drove his cruiser down a ditch at the end of the night shift, so Millard’s without a car for the day.” 

Nicole nodded tersely even if she would have preferred to patrol alone considering her current mood. Besides, Millard was a decent sort, even though he sounded like sour grapes when he was working dispatch. Speaking of.

“Wasn’t he on duty last night?” Working back to back shifts was unusual in Purgatory, but judging from how crowded the room around her was, everyone must have gotten the short end of the stick. 

“He’s snoozed in his chair for a couple of hours. Nobody’s going back home till all the roads are cleared - Sheriff’s orders.” 

And that would explain the side-eye Nicole was getting from a few of her fellow deputies, having had the night off and all. She knew some people in the force resented the status she seemed to have because of her ties to the Earps, but then again Sheriff Nedley had made it quite clear he would tolerate no hassling on that front. 

Nicole was positive that a few of her colleagues secretly hoped a demon would devour her, although none of them would admit to that - nor acknowledge demons existed at all.

People in Purgatory were very good at ignoring what they didn’t want to see.

“Well?” The sergeant glared at her. “Go help Millard sort out reports and be ready to head for patrol any minute.” He made a shooing gesture and she hurried to comply. 

“Fucking fire brigade,” she heard him mutter as she turned to leave, “upping and leaving like that when we could actually use the idiots.”

 _Charred idiots._ Nicole amended in her mind.

She said nothing.

**********************

“I want to help, but I don’t know what she bargained.” Waverly sighed, reaching for the small shot of whiskey Doc had poured her to calm her nerves. “ _Criminy_ , I don’t even know if she _wants_ me to help.”

Doc took a gulp from his own glass - which was far bigger and fuller than hers - Waverly noted, chagrined. 

“It must be hard for someone as upstanding as Officer Haught to admit to such a thing,” he said after a while. “Have you thought about that?” 

“I guess…” Waverly mumbled and pushed her empty glass away. The whiskey burned her stomach, but despite the strong taste, her mouth was suddenly soured. “I guess I thought telling her I am there for her was enough?” 

Doc grunted, pouring himself another dose. “I think she may not be that used to people caring about her.” He caught her questioning look and shrugged his shoulders. “Always stricken me as one who’d rather not be a burden, she has. Mayhaps she thinks that if you get involved in something she caused, that’s what’ll happen.” He reached out and took one of her hands in a display of open affection that was very unusual for him. 

His hand was warm and dry, calloused, and Waverly squeezed his fingers back, feeling reassured. 

“I think Officer Haught is mighty afraid she’ll lose you, Waverly.”

“She won’t!” Waverly protested, so loudly a few heads turned, and as she did, Doc’s point became quite clear. “You’re saying I have to show her?” 

“Exactly.” Doc beamed. “Your heart is in the right place, Waverly Earp. She just needs to know.”

He stood and adjusted his hat, motioning her to follow towards the kitchen. 

“How about I tell the cook to make something to go for you both? A sandwich with all the fixings for Haught, just as she likes it. You can go to the station and wait for her there.”

“You think she won’t mind?” Waverly asked uncertainly. 

“What Alpha ever turns down free food?” He countered with a wink, making her laugh. Then, as they got out of people’s earshot, his expression turned serious.

“With _Him_ rising, we need to watch out for each other, darlin’.” It was quite clear who he was referring to. “You remember that, and it’ll be fine.”

As if on cue, the ground started to shake.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole thows everything she has at work, trying not to dwell too much about her personal problems while she looks for a solution. Unfortunatey her day has no intention of improving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always comments and kudos are much appreciated! I know I am behind in my replies again and I apologize. 
> 
> Happy reading.
> 
> \- Dren

“ _Christ_ ,” Millard swore, car swerving madly when a particularly nasty tremor made the pavement ahead ripple, “first the snow and now a bloody earthquake. Can’t catch a break, eh, Haught?” 

Nicole grunted noncommittally. She was glad he’d insisted on driving for the first half of their patrol round, leaving her time to think about the mess she was in. 

“Wow, who pissed in your cereal this morning?” She cast him a sidelong glance and caught him grinning back goodnaturedly. That was one of the things she liked about him - he always took her mood in stride, which was not a given considering he was an Alpha as well. Yet they got along well whenever they happened to work together - Millard telling her things about town, like which people could be reasoned with and which couldn’t - and Nicole had naturally found herself deferring to him a little. 

He had maybe five years of experience on her, but he’d not tried to lord it over her like some other Alpha would have, and Nicole had grown to respect him. 

She noticed that his grin had turned downwards, and the glances he was shooting her now were concerned. 

“You sure you’re ok, Haught? You smell…” He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, looking for the right word. “ _Hurt_.”

“I’m sorry.” She tried a smile that she was sure was unconvincing, but he didn’t press her. “Just a bad day I guess?” 

He nodded. 

“I’m here if you wanna talk about it, alright?” The words sounded a bit awkward, as if he wasn’t used to offering that kind of help, but she had spent enough time with him to know he was sincere. 

Nicole opened her mouth to thank him, but the radio crackled with static before the dispatcher’s voice cut through whatever she meant to say.

“Unit 5, this is Dispatch, do you copy?” Millard groaned and rolled his eyes. Nicole could share the sentiment a little - Parker sounded chippier than any person had a right to be so early, plus he tended to ramble on the radio.

She snatched the radio receiver off its hook. 

“Unit 5, copy.”

“10-11 underway at 23 Birch Run. I repeat-” 

“We got you the first time, Parker.” Millard interrupted, taking the first left. 

“What _kind_ of animal problem, Parker?” Nicole asked before the two started to argue. The way her day was going, it would turn out to be a three-headed demon dog. 

“Uhhh…” Static cut the line, then the sound of shuffled papers followed. “A snake. Reportedly.”

At that, Millard visibly shuddered. Nicole acknowledged and thanked Parker before putting the receiver back. 

“If the whole goddam fire brigade hadn’t decided on an unplanned vacation, we wouldn’t have to deal with fugitive snakes,” Millard complained. “Imagine if one of us pulled that kind of stunt. Nedley would have our hide.”

“Do we have a pillow case?” Nicole reflexively twisted around to scan the backseat, even though she knew she would find nothing there.

“Excuse me?” 

“A pillow case,” she repeated patiently, “you know, to… secure the snake.” 

They had arrived at the address Dispatch had given in record time, and Millard stopped the car, perhaps stomping on the brake a tad harder than he normally would have. 

“I’m not touching that thing.” He shuddered again, and when Nicole turned to him, she noticed the white lines of tension around his eyes. He really was afraid. 

“Alright,” she soothed, patting his arm. “You don’t have to. Just help me find something we can use to haul the snake back to the Precinct.”

Having something to do seemed to settle his nerves. They got out of the cruiser and walked around to the trunk, Millard leaning down to rummage inside after popping it open. 

“Here.” He handed her a snake stick, which every car came equipped with simply because prairie rattlesnakes were commonly seen around Purgatory during the summer. Nicole hadn’t dealt with a snake in some time, but she figured that even if their runaway was inside an apartment complex - which seemed to be the case - the season would have made the snake sluggish and easier to catch. 

“We can use this for a sack.” Millard announced after a few minutes had passed, tearing open the plastic wrapper of the spare back seat cover Nicole kept in the car. She had bought it out of her own pocket after one of the local drunkards had spilled his guts in the back during one eventful night of vagrant rousting. 

She’d had to mop the vomit up before turning the cruiser in, and had sworn she’d never go through such an ordeal again. 

He tied the ends of the seat cover together until he was satisfied that the little contraption would hold the assault of a possibly angry snake, then shot her a look that clearly told her he’d rather be anywhere else.

“Come on,” Nicole hefted the sick and gave him an encouraging nod. “Let’s go play animal control.” 

**********************

Wynonna piled the dirty dishes in the sink before scooping up the remainder of the eggs out of the pan Waverly had abandoned on the stove and into a tupperware she shoved into the back of the fridge. 

Putting leftovers away and her special mac and cheese comprised the entirety of her culinary expertise, and that was probably why Waverly always stuck her with doing the dishes. 

Her sister had taken off after Nicole, ignoring all of Wynonna’s questions, and at that moment she was too tired from a night spent hunting Revenants to feel more than passing concern. Dolls had been the one to come up with the new plan - with Bushar's rising, more Revenants may follow Bobo and side with the demon, so weeding out as many as they could without actually breaking the curse was the best solution, and the only one they had for the time being. 

Wynonna grimaced. They couldn’t break the curse now - chances were that Bulshar was as trapped as the rest of the other Revenants, but if they broke the curse and the demon actually left the Triangle… She shuddered, not wanting to think about it.

She would put her feet up a while and then head back to town herself, she decided. Wynonna cared about Nicole a lot, and the Alpha - usually soft and collected - had looked on the verge of tears. And her eyes, when she’d met Wynonna’s surprised gaze for a brief moment, had been brimming with fear.

Wynonna stretched, casting a disgusted look at the pile of greasy dishes before deciding to ignore them. She would clean them eventually, maybe even before the snow thawed. 

Turning on her heels, she headed to the living room, then reconsidered and retraced her steps to the refrigerator. The freezer’s door opened with a sucking sound and Wynonna stuck her arm inside, groping around until she found a half-full tub of ice cream in the back.

Hugging the container to her chest, she grabbed a spoon and stomped into the living room, letting herself fall on the couch with a huff.

Wynonna felt off. She’d felt not quite like herself since Gretta’s ill conceived wish. The alternate reality may not  have come to pass in the end - thanks to her friends - but she remembered every part of it in painful detail. It had left her physically untouched - her hand went to her belly involuntarily - but within her head was another story.

She was fucked up inside, and while she’d usually have drowned the thoughts in her head under a good dose of whiskey, she needed to be sober when Clootie finally rose. It was the cosmic kind of showdown her family had prepared for generation after generation, and Wynonna wouldn’t add that failure to the others already penned under her name. 

If not for herself, then for Waverly.

The cookie dough flavour was sickly sweet in her mouth, and she let the spoon drop back in the tub of ice cream with a soured grunt. This wasn’t even a kind she liked, and she wondered what urge had possessed her to throw it in the shopping basket when she’d gone grocery shopping two days before. 

Maybe it was some lingering effect of a pregnancy that hadn’t been real, but which she still remembered, and with that familiar thought came a sense of emptiness. 

Suddenly being alone in the Homestead became unbearable. Wynonna got off the couch, walking back to the kitchen to toss the ice cream in the trash, then grabbed the truck’s keys she’d carelessly tossed on the counter when she’d arrived, and headed outside, hell-bent on tracking Waverly down.

Perhaps whatever was going down between her sister and Nicole wasn’t her business, and Waverly wouldn’t appreciate her nosing around, but they had both looked as miserable as Wynonna felt, and it was far better to feel that way in company than alone.

Besides, there had been a haunted look in Haught’s eyes that reminded her of the one she’d worn for a time after shooting her father. 

And she owed Nicole, even though the other Alpha didn’t seem to remember what she’d done for Wynonna. Better that way all considering, she supposed. 

But if there was one thing Wynonna Earp was good at doing, it was paying her debts. 

**********************

“It wasn’t so bad was it?” Nicole asked, holding their makeshift snake container as far from her body as her arm would allow. She did her best to ignore the hissing and thrashing that came from within, and the sweat that slicked her back, which made her uniform stick to her skin rather uncomfortably. 

“Let’s get that hellspawn back to the Precinct,” Millard muttered, shooting the sack a wary look. “I don’t want to be near it any longer than necessary.” 

The tenant who had called the police had practically shoved them out of his place as soon as they’d trapped the snake, and Nicole had been more than glad to leave, the apartment’s air sour with the reek of the Beta’s fear. Not that she could blame the man - the snake had been way on the angry side. 

Millard’s radio came to life with a loud whistling noise, Parker’s voice coming through. 

“Unit 5, I have an update on your snake problem. Someone reported it missing from the same housing complex - apartment 5B.” 

Millard radioed back to confirm, then shot Nicole a positively relieved look. “That’s top floor innit? At least we won’t have to tote the little fucker back to the station.” 

An enraged hiss punctuated his words. 

They decided on taking the stairs, neither of them relishing the idea of being inside an elevator with an upset reptile, and climbed up as fast as they could. Millard growled and muttered all the way upstairs, working himself up to give the snake’s owner “ _a well deserved earful,_ ” as he put it. 

Nicole didn’t really know what kind of person to expect, but anyone she could picture in her thoughts was a far cry from the woman that finally opened the door after a good five minutes of Millard’s increasingly frustrated knocking. 

Brown haired, with matching eyes that seemed to hold many a secret, she managed to look imposing despite the delicate appearance. The woman barely came to Millard’s chest - although to be fair he was rather tall - but just by the way she held herself, arms crossed over her chest and head tilted as she shot them a curious look, she managed to tower over them both. 

Her presence was so commanding that Nicole almost felt the need to apologize for bothering her, while her fellow officer had quit bitching and stared on with an dumbfounded expression.

“Uh,” Nicole finally managed to shake herself out of her stupor enough to glance at the plaque on the door that bore the tenant’s name, “Ms. Hunter?” 

The woman nodded. “That would be me, yes.” Her voice bore the hard tones of someone that expected to be obeyed.

“I think we found the snake you reported missing two days ago. Big, black and... _extremely_ unpleasant?” 

“Ah.” A smile flickered across the woman’s lips, hard as the rest and twice as cutting, “I’d built Drogon a new enclosure and he must have managed to wiggle out somehow. To tell you the truth I was quite worried he’d make it outside and freeze to death.” 

Millard gave the both of them a puzzled look. 

“Snakes rely on external environment to maintain homeostasis,” Nicole supplied, earning a genuine smile from Ms. Hunter. 

“Don’t worry, he’s not venomous.” The woman motioned for her to hand the makeshift bag over, their gazes meeting as the snake changed hands. The stray thought that her last name was quite apt flittered randomly through Nicole’s mind, and an inexplicable shiver ran down her back.

“He’s a biter though,” Ms. Hunter added with a smirk, “ _just like me_.” The last words were pitched to a murmur meant only for Nicole’s ears, and she got the distinct impression she was being flirted with. 

Or, more precisely, toyed with before she was devoured. 

“We’re running late, Millard.” She touched the brim of her hat in farewell, putting up her best professional facade. “Ma’am.” 

“Uh?” Millard blinked her way, hand frozen halfway through proffering Ms. Hunter a business card. “Oh, yes. Right.” 

The woman took the card without really looking his way, and Nicole felt her heated gaze linger on her back until she and Millard were out of view. 

“That went well, uh?” he quipped with a smitten expression as they stepped outside the building, the day well progressed now and, if possible, even colder than the morning had been. 

“She’s an Alpha anyway,” Nicole replied laconically, walking right over his disbelief. Now that the immediate problem was dealt with, her mind went back to Waverly and the mess her life currently resembled. 

Millard got back behind the wheel - all the while protesting that Nicole must be mistaken - and they sped away, towards a hopefully less eventful rest of their shift. 

It was like that for some time, the two of them having Purgatory’s roads mostly to themselves, and they only responded to a handful of calls, stopping around noon to get a sandwich to go from the deli. Mostly, they dealt with stuck motorists and fallen branches, the remainder of their shift shaping up to be an uneventful slog. 

Which was just as well, Nicole considered. A quiet shift meant plenty of time to stew in her own misery. 

That was until they got another call from Dispatch - Officer Todd on rotation now - alerting them that an armed robbery suspect was on the run. 

Nicole acknowledged, the radio receiver rattling softly as she slotted it back in its cradle. 

Suddenly the cold that had her flesh pebble despite the layers of clothing wasn’t due to the plummeting temperature, and as Millard drove them south, towards the area where the suspect had been last sighted, she let her hand fall to her gun’s holster, squeezing the wooden butt of her pistol to keep herself from shaking. 

She tried to swallow down the knot twisting her throat, but failed, and dread only grew within her, turning her blood to lead. 

The truck - a rusted old thing that was seemingly holding itself together out of spite - came out of nowhere, ramming into the cruiser at full tilt. The police car folded under the truck’s weight, as if it was made of paper rather than metal, then Nicole’s world turned upside down as they were flipped over, flying off the road and into the snowy field beyond. 

Her last, incoherent thought was that she couldn’t quite remember how many spare bullets she had on herself. 

The day around her grew dark.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughs?


	4. Author's Note

Just a quick note on this one. Compared to Snow Patrol it doesn't seem to have roused the same kind of interest and I am having a bit of self doubt about it. Are you still interested in reading this sequel? Sorry if I ask, I fight constantly with loathing about my writing and feedback helps get over it.

Let me know if you still want to read the rest of the story. I realize it's less smut centered than Snow Patrol, but smut is also coming. 

Have a good one. 

\- Dren

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole and Millard escape the accident unscathed and chase their suspect, who is not what he appears. Meanwhile, at the station, Waverly grows worried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya! I'm back with a new chapter! Thanks to everyone for reaching out after the author's note - and for the vote of confidence. I promise I am done mistreating Nicole for a while after this chapter. (frankly, I love her too much to)

An odd mix of acrid gunpowder and cologne had Nicole wrinkling her nose. She felt lightheaded, oddly weightless, and her limbs were pervaded by the same lassitude one experiences after having lingered far too long immersed in a hot bath.

She had the distinct impression she’d been dreaming, but, for the life of her, she couldn’t say what about. The somewhat hazy image of a hockey league trophy flashed before her eyes - of all things! - right before pain blossomed at her temples. 

Nicole groaned, turning her head from side to side before nausea stopped her, piling acidic bile at the back of her throat. A calloused hand cupped the back of her head, holding her still, and the stench of cheap cologne grew thicker in her nostrils. Memory of the accident returned quicker than a flash flood, and she panicked, thrashing against what she recognized as her car’s seat, with the thought that whoever had speared them off the road had approached the cruiser to finish the job. 

“Haught!” Millard’s voice came to her from a seemingly great distance and full of echoes. “Nicole, it’s me, hold still ok? I’m getting you out.”

Opening her eyes hurt, the late afternoon light like a blade that pierced right into her skull when she tried, despite the fact that the day was waning. 

The car laid belly up, and Nicole found herself still miraculously strapped to her seat. Gradually her eyes started to hurt less, and widened as she took in the wreckage. The windshield was completely blown - thankfully outwards for the most part - and she realized that the smell which filled her nostrils was not due to gunpowder, but to the greasy, grey-black smoke rising from the engine block. 

“Are we on fire?” she asked stupidly, and her tongue felt three sizes too big as it scraped against her teeth. 

“Nearly,” Millard grunted and hacked away at her seatbelt with the knife from the multitool he always carried. 

When the belt snapped, Nicole half-slid, half-tumbled out of her seat, feeling broken glass prick the palms of her hands when she threw her arms out to cushion her fall against the car’s roof interior. 

With Millard’s help - and no little amount of swearing - she crawled out of the vehicle and collapsed moments later on the snow, welcoming its cold sting against her cheek. 

When she had regained her breath enough to sit up, she mouthed a curse that would have made Doc blush well above his mustache. The driver’s side of the cruiser was all but crushed, and she twisted, open-mouthed, to shoot a disbelieving glance at Millard. 

“I’m a stubborn bastard.” He was putting up a show of pure bravado, but his hands shook as he helped her up. “The guy who rammed us off the road went that way,” he pointed across the whitened field, to what remained of the old Purgatory’s Brewing Company. “Coincidentally, I think he’s our armed robber.”

“Splendid.” Nicole struggled to stay on her feet, the ground tilting dangerously as dizziness washed over her. “Did you call it in?” 

“Reinforcements are on their way.” He grasped her by the shoulder and steadied her. “And an ambulance. We need to get you to a hospital.”

He talked and acted as if the blood running freely from a gash on his forehead meant nothing. 

“No,” Nicole dissented, and the world dimmed momentarily when she turned her head. “By the time they arrive, he’ll be long gone.”

The misery that had accompanied her throughout the day coalesced into a ball of anger at the mouth of her stomach. It pushed the pain she felt to a bearable level, something dull that she could power through and discard until the man they were supposed to be chasing was securely behind bars. 

She may have made a mess of her relationship, but she was still a cop with a job to do. 

And there was another thing, one that she didn’t tell Millard about. It was one of those little details your eyes register everyday - an image like another million, kept in storage inside the brain until there is an actual use for it. 

She’d somehow managed a glance at the truck’s driver before their cruiser careened off the road, and his eyes had smoldered the telling red of a Revenant’s.

*******************************

“She ain’t back yet, kiddo,” Sergeant Carson announced as soon as he spotted Waverly waving through the crowded station as she attempted to reach his desk. 

“She’s late.” She worried her lower lip and ducked her head slightly, trying to hide the telltale sign of nervousness behind the scarf still wrapped around her neck. 

“Have you taken a good look outside?” The man chewed the words and spat them out, snappier than usual. 

Waverly really couldn’t blame him for his sour mood. The Precinct parking lot was full of towed cars, several of which were missing one part or another, and every deputy she’d passed on her way inside looked haggard and beyond tired. 

“I’m sorry, girl,” he harrumphed and restacked papers that were perfectly fine on their own, evidently ashamed at the tone he’d used. “All the patrols are late, though.” He reached across the desk and patted her arm awkwardly. “Nothing to be worried about.”

“Hmm.” Waverly made a noncommittal sound she hoped he’d take for agreement, a small smile ghosting across her lips. Sergeant Carson had been calling her ‘kiddo’ or ‘girl’ for as long as she could remember, and it looked like he had no intention to stop, no matter how old she got.

“You mind if I wait for her here?” Waverly nodded to the row of chairs that lined the hallway. Usually they’d be full of people waiting to file a complaint, but today they were oddly vacant in stark contrast to the whirlwind of activity that had invested the rest of the station. 

“‘Course you can.” He spied the brown bag she was holding, and gave a wistful sniff. “Say, you wouldn’t happen to have a spare sandwich in there, would you?” 

Waverly hugged the food to her chest. “It was for Nicole,” she blurted out and watched the Sergeant’s face turn from hopeful to crestfallen. “But...say… I could make a run at the deli and get you and the other deputies stuck here some donuts?” 

She couldn’t possibly know how long it’d take for Nicole to be back, and suddenly the idea to sit around, having nothing but worry to occupy her thoughts, didn’t look all that appealing. 

“You’re a darling, Waverly Earp.” the Sergeant declared and twisted in his chair, hollering for whoever wanted food or coffee to to fork out some cash. 

And that was how Wynonna found her, standing in line at the deli while a bored-looking teen piled bagels and doughnuts in a box for her to take. 

“Food!” Her sister lit up and shot the box a hungry look once it was in Waverly’s hand. “Can I take some?” 

“You just wolfed down half my breakfast! What are you, pregnant?” Waverly placed her hand over the box’s lid for emphasis. “Besides these are for Nicole’s colleagues.”

When Wynonna didn’t protest she peered into her face, and was taken aback to find that a fragile light filled her sister’s eyes. 

“Wynonna? Are you ok?” 

“Wha- uh, yeah. Sure.” Wynonna shivered. “Just no baby jokes, okay? There’s enough demons screaming around town without a spawn-of-Satan of my own.” 

Her voice quivered oddly, and Waverly thought there was more to it than what Wynonna chose to let on, but the Alpha had taken the box from her and was marching to the door. 

“Let me help you deliver the goods, eh? Can’t pass up this chance to grease up the police force.” 

They made their way back to the station only to find the atmosphere dramatically changed. If before the deputies had been filled with some sort of quiet urgency, now the Precinct was resembling a kicked anthill, and the Sergeant didn’t smile when she approached. 

Although, to be honest, that may have been due to Wynonna’s presence at her side. 

“What’s going on, Sergeant?” Waverly asked, forcing the words past the knot of fear that threatened to strangle her. Her hands felt cold and clammy with sweat, and she was glad that Wynonna was the one holding the box because she would have definitely dropped it. 

Carson fidgeted with his radio and studiously avoided meeting her gaze. 

“There was… an accident.”

Waverly opened her mouth, but Wynonna spoke up, her tone hard. 

“Cut the crap, Sarge. What. Happened.” 

He glared, but after a brief pause answered anyway. “It’s Haught. Her cruiser was sighted in a field near the old brewery.” 

Waverly was sprinting for the door before he was done talking.

*******************************

They crossed the snowy field as quickly as they could, which wasn't very fast considering Nicole had to lean heavily against Millard to keep upright. 

Every now and then, her vision blurred and dimmed, and she had to blink rapidly to chase away the black motes that danced before the eyes. 

Perhaps thanks to the walk, or air so frigid that it cut her lungs like broken glass, by the time they reached the shadows cast by the ruined building, Nicole was standing straighter, and could walk alone, albeit slowly. 

They exchanged one long look and drew their service guns in unison, Millard taking the lead while she covered his flank. There had been shotguns in the cruiser’s trunk, but neither of them wanted to hang around long enough to recover them, in case the car did decide to finally blow up.

Nicole didn’t protest at being made to follow, her body still reeling from the accident. Perhaps he was right, and they should wait for reinforcements to show up, but with the snow, it would take time, and the Revenant would be gone, on his merry way to hurt more people in the meantime. 

The worrying spike in petty crime was something she’d discussed with Dolls at length, both of them coming to the conclusion that Clootie’s imminent rising was making the Revenants more brazen. 

Fear of the Earp Heir had kept them laying low after Bobo had disappeared, but now they didn’t seem to care one way or the other. They must think that Wynonna’s days were numbered, and Nicole was loathe to admit that unless they found a surefire way to stop the demon, the Revenants were right.

The passing from waning sunlight to the building’s shadows was clean cut and sudden, the darkness the rubble projected ink-black like no shade out of a desert had business being. They edged their way into the Brewery’s perimeter, the chain-link fence that had closed the property off so rotten it was gone for the most part. Only a few rusty traces remained, orange-red rivulets smeared across the stone pillars of the factory’s main gate like running rain. 

Or blood. 

Nicole had read up on the place when she’d been assigned to Purgatory, trying to ready herself for a town so full of history it was impervious, almost adverse, to change. The Purgatory Brewing Company had been a flourishing business, started by an Irish immigrant and his brother in the early 1900s. Their beer had been selling so well locally, demand so high, that old contracts she’d hunted down at the library revealed the brothers were on the verge of buying more land so that they could expand. 

But that, of course, had been before the explosion. The accounts were not clear on the exact date - Nicole suspected they had been deliberately purged - but one day the factory had just blown up, killing dozens of workers. 

_ Causes unknown _ , the one dossier she’d managed to track down at the Precinct had stated. Strangely enough, the Gardners had bought the land shortly after - for a dime, really - and the destitute brothers had moved back to Ireland, where they’d died in misery and neglect.

The new owners had done nothing with the plot of land, allowing decay free reign over the Brewery’s burned out husk. A few people had inquired after the fields where the factory had been - it was enough acres to build a medium-sized shopping center, or houses - but nothing had ever come of it, and some of those entrepreneurs had encountered misfortune. 

According to several townspeople, the building was haunted by the souls of the workers that had died in the explosion, and as they entered what remained of the vaulted halls where the beer vats had been standing, Nicole was inclined to agree.  

It didn’t help their search that the halls were full of echoes - from the infinitesimal skittering of mice skulking the dark corners, to the wind desperately howling through the gaps in the masonry. 

The whole place creaked and shifted, and Nicole felt like an intruder. The halls were veins, the production chamber the heart and lungs, and she thought this was what it must be like to be in the presence of a golem. 

As they ventured deeper, her impression of the building changed - it wasn’t haunted per se, or at least not in the way the people back in town would use the word. Desolation exuded from the walls along with the humidity, and it dampened her brow. It was like walking through a derelict graveyard, long past the time in which the last of the people that would know who the dead were had passed into the ground themselves, and she sucked in a breath, sadness building salt behind her eyelids. 

But the most unsettling thing was that, despite the many years that had gone by, the air which licked against her teeth still tasted like the smoke of that night’s fires. 

A clang coming from what remained of the second story drew their attention, and after a bit of searching, Nicole and Millard found a metal staircase that, while bent by the great heat, still looked like it could hold their weight. 

“I don’t like this,” her fellow Alpha muttered, pointing the gun at the square of sky visible above. “You sure you can make it up?” 

Nicole nodded. “If we split once we’re on the upper floor, we can corner him. This place is gutted, he’ll have nowhere to hide,” she whispered as she placed a hand on his shoulder, urging him forward.

They climbed the stairs warily, careful not to put too much weight on the same step. Still, the metal groaned underneath them, and flakes of rust fell like ruddy snow to the ground below. Nicole could feel Millard’s tension like a vibration that travelled up her hand and to her arm, until it spread like a tidal wave across her chest. 

They crested the stairs and the noise came again, louder, as if the Revenant was deliberately making himself known. 

“He may be drawing us in,” Millard mouthed in warning before they separated. “All eyes.” 

Nicole gave a terse nod and turned left, her partner stalking to the right. Soon enough, he was out of view, since even though most of the outer walls had blown out, a few of the inside ones were still standing. She ran a hand over the nearest one and snatched it back in disgust. The stone here had a texture not unlike that of melted wax, which Nicole found sickening, and she didn’t want to imagine how hot the fires that followed the explosion must have been to make the walls run so. 

A shadow flashed across a patch of sleepy sunlight, and she tensed, pointing the gun in that direction. Footsteps bounced crazily off the walls, followed by a sound that was half-snarl, half-laughter and full of scorn. 

Logic told her she should radio in for Millard, the acoustic so warped he may or may not have heard the noise, but the Alpha within her rose violently to the open challenge, turning her own frustrations against her. 

She gave chase, her body screaming in protest, and rounded a corner gun first, a warning ready on her lips. 

There was a glint of metal, right before pain blossomed across her wrists, causing her to drop the gun. The iron bar the Revenant was holding rose again, this time aimed at her head, but Nicole saw it coming and propelled herself into the man before he could strike home. 

They grappled, her wrists filling her vision with flashes of white agony every time she was jolted in the thrashing. Somehow she got a few kicks in - and from the way the Revenant howled, she hit him where it counted - but then he was rolling away and reaching for the iron bar he’d used to hurt her. 

He reared back, the piece of iron held aloft like a spear, and Nicole realized he meant to impale her chest with it. She screamed - maybe, the adrenaline was making everything confused instead of sharp - and a gun boomed. 

Once. Twice. Three times. 

The spot in which they had been wrestling was only a few spans away from a rent in the wall, and the Revenant, brown blood gushing from the holes Millard had blown into his chest, threw himself at it in a desperate escape. 

He plummeted below without a sound, but Nicole was too preoccupied with Millard, who, ashen-faced and sweating, was patting her everywhere to make sure she was alright. 

“Okay. I’m okay,” she mumbled and resisted the urge to nurse her wrists. She didn’t think that they were broken, but she’d have bruises all the way to Christmas. If they ever lived to see the next. 

Her partner stepped back, letting her rise to her knees on her own, and she crawled to the hole in the wall, eyes searching for the Revenant. The snow outside was splashed with a dull brown, but empty. 

“He’s gone,” she said laconically and hung her head. 

“But I shot him. I  _ shot _ him.” Millard’s words were swallowed by the shrieks of approaching sirens, and moments later, an ambulance and several police cars were pulling up to the building, deputies spilling out of the vehicles to comb the area.

Nicole sat down heavily and leaned her back against the wall, the pain in her arms coalescing into an invisible snare that made it impossible to do anything other than breathe. 

Paramedics appeared in her peripheral vision, hurrying forward as they caught sight of her and Millard. He reached down and patted her shoulder with a reassuring rumble, which made her smile. 

Rather, she was so tired all of a sudden that her lips barely twitched, her eyes too heavy to rise and meet his - or to stay open for that matter. 

Reinforcements were there, she thought somewhat incoherently, and nobody would mind it if she took a little nap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [follow me on TUMBLR for more stories and exclusive content](https://kendrene.tumblr.com/)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Wynonna hunts for the Revenant that tried to kill Nicole, Waverly waits at the hospital, waiting for the Alpha to wake up. Realizing how close they have been to tragedy prompts them to finally talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are some flashbacks in this chapter, which will be marked in italics. I hope you enjoy it and as always let me know below what you think!
> 
> Happy reading
> 
> \- Dren

“You’re asking me to forget this ever happened?” 

Waverly listened to Millard with only half an ear, her eyes glued to the gurney on which the paramedics had brought Nicole into the ER. She’d have moved closer, except the doctor who was tending to Nicole had chased her out of triage twice already. 

“Yep,” Wynonna replied from somewhere at her back. “Get that cut looked at, go home and crack open a cold one.” 

Millard sighed, exasperated. 

“Look, Earp. I’m trying to forget all the shit I’ve heard about you, and take this as well-meant advice, but…”

“It  _ is _ well-meant,” Wynonna cut in harshly. “Best advice you’ll ever get, and I’m giving it for free.”

“But,” Millard resumed, ignoring the interruption. “I can’t just pretend everything’s alright, okay? Not after I shot someone dead and they  _ walked it off _ .” 

Wynonna snorted.

“You don’t know that.” 

“Where’s the body then, huh? _HUH_? I blew a hole the size of my fist in that motherfucker’s chest, and you don’t get up from a wound like that!”

Their voices had risen considerably as they argued, and the same doctor who had chewed Waverly up poked her head out of the room, glaring.

“Keep it down, or I’ll call security.” She didn’t look at all intimidated by the fact that one of the people she scolded was a police officer.

“Didn’t realize we were in a freakin’ library.” Wynonna retorted, but she grabbed Millard by an elbow and dragged him towards the end of the corridor.

The doctor’s eyes turned to Waverly and softened.

“We’re moving her to a room now, and you and your…” she paused, and shot another look at Wynonna and Officer Millard, “ _ friends _ will be able to see her.” 

“Is she…” Waverly had to stop and swallow. “Will she be alright?” 

The doctor nodded. 

“Minor concussion and bruises aside, yes she will.” The woman inclined her head. “Are you her mate?”

Waverly shuffled and cleared her throat. The doctor could not possibly know how much of a sore point the question was right now, but it still hurt that she couldn’t answer with a yes. “Girlfriend, actually.” 

That was enough for the doctor to elaborate further. “I’ll give you a sheet with instructions, and enough meds to last until you can go to the pharmacy tomorrow. Still, I have to warn you. Alphas make terrible patients, but she needs to take this seriously and rest. I don’t foresee any complications,  _ unless  _ she pushes herself.”

“I’ll tie her to the bed if I have to.” There was no stopping the words from coming out, but the doctor chuckled quietly. She looked way less fearsome when she smiled. 

“I’m not sure she’d take that as the threat you mean it to be.” Orderlies had shown up as they talked, and Waverly and the doctor cleared the doorway so that the men could transfer Nicole to a different room. 

“Plan is to keep her in observation for a couple hours.” Doctor Russell - up this close Waverly managed to spy the name on her badge - tugged her surgical gloves off and tossed them in the hazard waste bin as they fell in line behind the stretcher, Wynonna and Millard joining them as they passed by. “Once she’s awake and we’re sure she feels up to it, you can take her home.” The doctor gave the three of them a serious look and raised a finger. “Any nausea, loss of memory, or slurred speech, and you take her back  _ immediately _ , am I clear?” 

“Yes, ma’am,” she and Wynonna chorused, with Millard nodding along.

“And you.” Doctor Russell rounded on him, what Waverly had quickly identified as her no-bullshit glare firmly in place. “You’re coming with me so I can look at that cut before you bleed all over the whole goddamn hospital.” 

She led Millard away as soon as the elevator halted, leaving Waverly and Wynonna to follow the nurses and watch as they set Nicole up in a more comfortable bed. 

Waverly had hoped this room would smell a bit better than the ER, but the stench of sickness and disinfectant was too soaked into the walls to really go away completely. She didn’t like hospitals, especially because she had frequented Purgatory General all too often since Wynonna had returned to town. Everything inside the room reminded her of the close calls, the near misses, the times one of them had really gotten hurt. 

There was a strip of light atop the bed, its glow soft enough that it would not disturb a patient. Perhaps it was the yellow, dusty quality, but under it Nicole looked like death warmed over. Too small by half under the blankets, and the only part of her body that Waverly could see - her right arm, with an IV line running from the inside of her elbow - limp in a way that was entirely different from peaceful sleep. 

The ground shook hard enough to make the array of pill bottles the nurses had left on the night table rattle softly, and the lights flickered. The neon strip buzzed loudly, and it looked like it would go off completely before it brightened again, returning to normal. 

“This place gives me the creeps,” Waverly confessed, shooting a glance out the door. The hallway lights had dimmed, too, and were only partially coming back on. A medical monitor beeped somewhere at the far end of the corridor, and doctors rushed by, white coats billowing behind them as they ran.  

“I know babygirl.” 

They hovered by Nicole’s bedside, looking down at her for a while. She hadn’t stirred with the tremors, but her eyes darted around behind closed eyelids, and her brow was lined with a light frown. 

“Speaking of creepy, think you’ll be okay staying here alone for a while?” Wynonna asked at some point. 

“I can call you if she wakes up,” Waverly replied absently as she traced the back of Nicole’s hand with trembling fingers. “Why, where are you going?” She tore her gaze away from her girlfriend’s sleeping form, Wynonna’s words finally covering the distance between her ears and her brain. 

A dangerous, hard light entered Wynonna’s eyes.

“I have a Revenant to hunt.” 

*************************

Nicole came to her senses slowly, suspended between sleep and awareness as her body registered her surroundings. She was lying somewhere soft, and for a moment, she imagined she was back in the snow-covered field, catching her breath with watery eyes turned towards the sky after Millard had dragged her out of the patrol car. 

The coolness sliding against her skin was not the icy winter cold that makes your limbs first tingle, and then go numb, however, but the crispness of fresh laundry and starch. She shifted, and the surface underneath her crackled softly, the way only hospital beds do.

Nicole immediately knew, because she’d spent an awful lot of time in them since coming to Purgatory.

She refused to open her eyes just yet, since doing so would mean letting the world back in, and chose instead to map her immediate surroundings by smell.

The air was heavy and still despite the steady whir of the ventilation unit somewhere overhead. A stomach-turning blend of ammonia and old sickness filled her lungs with every breath, along with the after-taste of whatever drugs they’d pumped her full of. 

Laced through it all, she could smell Waverly.

Other things began to come to her, and she pieced each single one together in her mind. The continuous  _ drip-drip _ coming from her right was the liquid sound of an IV line, which explained the maddening itch on the inside of her elbow. Footsteps punctuated her breathing, a shuffled back and forth that would occasionally increase, then die down for a heartbeat or two, before it invariably picked back up.

Waverly was the only person she could smell in her vicinity, and Nicole grasped at the rhythm of her pacing to attempt and gauge her mood. 

The more she listened, the more she fretted. With a gulp, she shifted again - more of a squirm, really - pressing her back firmly into the pliable surface of the mattress as if the bed could offer her a hiding place. 

Nicole kept up the self-inflicted torture a while longer, until she finally caved, cracking an eye open.

She just needed to know.

The footsteps faltered, then stopped, the sudden silence broken by a sharp gasp. Nicole forced her other eye open - the blade of light above her head making both tear up- and in the time it took her to blink the room into focus, Waverly had rushed to her side.

“Nicky…” Waverly was frowning down at her, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. Fingers smoothed a stray lock of hair away from Nicole’s sweaty brow, and she turned into the touch, a weary sigh leaving her lips. Waverly snatched her hand back a moment later, her frown deepening, a flash of a whole different emotion drying the unspent tears away. 

Her gaze turned piercing and hot.

“You.” Waverly took a shuddering breath, her cheeks puffing out before she released it. “You  _ absolute  _ idiot!” 

Nicole cringed. Yep, Waverly was angry alright. 

In her mind, she scrambled for a defense, but before any words could make it to her lips, she remembered all the times she and Wynonna had told Waverly to wait for them in the car during a hunt.

Her thoughts stopped inevitably on the one time she didn’t.

*************************

_ Nicole had known the day would suck as soon as she set foot out of bed, grimacing when her bare feet missed the rug, curling instead against the cold floorboards. She hissed and jerked back, shoving her legs  under the blankets so hard that she kicked CJ, which up to that point had been purring peacefully at the foot of the bed.  _

_ The cat uncoiled and jumped away, racing to the half-open door before she turned to shoot Nicole what she interpreted as a betrayed glare.  _

_ She dressed for work on autopilot, the pervasive chill of early November making her thoughts sluggish. Outside, fog hid distant objects behind a curtain of pearly white, and Nicole drove to work extra slowly, practically slouched over the Crown Victoria’s steering wheel as she squinted at the road ahead.  _

_ It was still early enough that the town was sleepy and traffic was light, the weather so dreary that the few people she saw walking the curbs looked like they’d rather still be in bed.  _

_ Even the aroma of fresh coffee seeping into the car as she swung into the Wake-Up Call Cafè parking lot failed to cheer her up, and she shivered her way up to the door, shoulders sagging in relief once she made her way inside. _

_ At this time of day, the wooden booths should have been teeming with the rest of the town’s early risers - the cafè was one of Purgatory’s first responders’ favorite haunts - but the place was currently empty, aside from haggard-looking Johnny Pancake behind the counter.  _

_ That wasn’t his name of course, but Purgatory was small enough that when enough people started to call you the same thing, you were kind of stuck with it.  _

_ “Officer!” He perked up as soon as he heard the bell above the door jingle. “The usual?”  _

_ Nicole slid onto one of the padded stools lined along the bar and took her gloves off, setting them down at her elbow and putting her Stetson on top.  _

_ “Make it scalding eh, Johnny? It’s super cold today.”  _

_ “Don’t tell me about it!” His italian accent resurfaced as he complained. “My hip is killing me, and I’ve got chills up the wazoo.” He poured her a cup of steaming coffee from a nearby pot, and then turned towards the kitchen.  _

_ “Frankie! Hey, Frankie!”  _

_ “WHAT,” his brother groused back, poking his head out of the kitchen.  _

_ “Breakfast for our Officer here. And make it Haught, capisce?”  _

_ The sip of coffee she was taking went down the wrong way, and Nicole coughed, putting the cup down hurriedly before she ended up wearing the rest of her drink.  _

_ The guys’ corny puns must have been rubbing off on Johnny. _

_ “One blistering hot breakfast plate coming up,” Frankie announced with a mirthful flash of tobacco-stained teeth.  _

_ Nicole exchanged pleasantries as she waited for her food, although it was more accurate to say that she listened while Johnny gave a complete rundown of his bill of health. _

_ In the short time it took for her breakfast to be served - sunny side up eggs on toast with a couple slices of crispy bacon on the side - she’d learned more about varicose veins than she cared to.  _

_ The food improved her mood somewhat, helping her to fully wake up along with the strong coffee the eatery was best known for. She took another cup to go, and one for Officer Todd, who would be on dispatch duty that day.  _

_ Perhaps because they were the only two female deputies in Purgatory, they had slipped into an easy friendship from the start, and Todd had been the one to invite Nicole out to her first night with the rest of the guys, reassuring her that she was more than welcome when she’d looked too nervous to accept. _

_ Of course Nicole should have known that her rediscovered good mood would last only as far as the Precinct’s door.  _

_ She’d barely put one foot inside the building when she heard a voice, raised and shrill with panic, accuse the Sheriff and his aides of doing nothing to make the town safe.  _

_ Nicole rounded the corner only to find its owner, a woman so distressed by… something… that she had come to the station still in her pajamas pointing a finger at Officer Todd, and ignoring the deputy’s attempts to get a word in.  _

_ “And he’s gone! Just gone, I’m telling you. My Jonas is like clockwork, I know him, I do! And don’t you dare tell me I’m blowing this out of proportion.”  _

_ “Ma’am, I wasn’t…” Todd shot Nicole a pleading look. _

_ “YES, you were! You find my husband now, you do, and I demand to see the Sheriff about your manners!” The woman had grown more and more agitated as she talked, her face veering dangerously towards purple.  _

_ “Ma’am.” Nicole set the coffees down on the counter and nodded to Todd. “Why don’t you follow me and take it from the top again? I promise I’ll head out to look for your husband as soon as you give me all the details.” _

_ She’d promise anything to get that harpy out of Todd’s face. _

_ And true to her word, Nicole  _ had  _ looked, even though it wasn’t the first time one of Becky Whittaker’s husbands took off in the dead of the night only to serve her divorce papers a few weeks later.  _

_ This would be the third time, to be exact. _

_ She’d been Becky Walker the disappearance before this one, and Becky Hunter before that.  _

_ “Impressive record,” she commented to Millard two days later, after all of her digging turned up nothing.  _

_ “I told you she’s a lunatic.” They were on break and Millard was wolfing down an enormous amount of homemade meatloaf at record speed.  _

_ “I know, but I had  _ promised _.”  _

_ “You’re too good for this town, Haught.”  _

_ It had taken five missing people in total - two of them kids - for them to realize that this time, Becky had been right to worry.  _

*************************

“You’re right,” Nicole croaked weakly, chapped lips hurting when she talked. “I am an idiot.” Tears pricked at her eyes and she sniffed. “I just. I feel so useless.” 

She clenched her fists, fingers clawing at the blankets. She’d managed to fuck up her life again after promising herself that she wouldn’t. After talking herself into taking things slow with Waverly - despite her instincts screeching at her to do anything but - so that she had time to undo the bargain with the Iron Witch somehow. 

Instead, Nicole had gone and slept with her, and the fact that Waverly had been in heat wasn’t an excuse. She ought to have known better. 

Nicole didn’t regret what had happened between them - and was it really just a bit more than a day ago? It felt like centuries - she was just terribly afraid. 

Scared that Waverly would walk away from her - not that she could blame her if she did - and the thought that she could lose her was more devastating than what had almost happened to her at the brewery.

Tears that weren’t hers fell on her face and she blinked. 

Waverly was crying.

“I was so afraid.” She tried to gulp down a sob and failed. “When they told me what happened, I thought I’d lost you.” Waverly’s fingers found Nicole’s and squeezed hard enough that it was painful. 

Nicole didn’t want her to let go. 

“They’d found your car, but it was empty. And then we heard gunfire coming through the radio… I thought you’d gone and got yourself shot again.”

“Impaled. Almost.” 

“You’re  _ really  _ not helping.” Waverly wiped at her face with one sleeve and gave Nicole a tremulous smile.

“Sorry…” Nicole shrugged sheepishly and winced a moment later, hot pain lacing through her neck and shoulders. “Ugh.” 

“Hey.” Waverly’s hands moved to her shoulders and held her still. “It’s okay.” She leaned down and rested her forehead against Nicole’s. “You’re okay.” 

It was a hard thing to believe, no matter how much Nicole wanted to.

*************************

_ It had felt like an easy mission before they started. Then again, on paper they always were.  _

_ Now, deep enough inside the building that daylight scarcely reached her, Nicole was not so sure.  _

_ She pointed her gun at every shadow, grateful she’d chosen to keep her gloves on. Despite the cold temperature, she was sweating profusely, palms slicked by nervousness to the point that her grip on her weapon would have been hindered without the gloves.   _

_ In truth, she was holding the gun way too hard, the ribbed grip digging into her flesh despite the leather. _

_ The pencil thin beam of the Maglite she held right below her gun was barely enough to reach the furthest corners of the corridor she was in. A thick layer of dust covered the concrete floor, the only marks beside her own the scurrying prints left behind by the occasional animal. Some prints were clearly rats’ and, as for the bigger ones she spotted, Nicole hoped they meant the occasional possum instead of some unspeakable horror. _

_ It was  _ still _ inside the building, quiet in a way she didn’t like.  _

_ Nicole couldn’t tell what purpose the place had served originally; offices maybe, even though the rotten furniture she came across was too ruined to tell, but she supposed that it really didn’t matter anymore.  _

_ She cautiously approached the stairwell at the end of the shadowy hall, the well of utter darkness leading to the floors below, rife with the possibility of danger.  _

_ “Are we sure this is the right place?” she murmured into the radio at her shoulder. The others had been given similar ones as well - courtesy of Nedley.  _

_ “I’m like, 90% sure.” Dolls’s answering whisper was rendered somewhat warped by the amount of concrete walls separating them.  _

_ “It’s the remaining 10% that worries me.”  _

_ She was going to add more, but a scream shattered the apparent peace. _

_ A voice she’d recognize anywhere. _

_ “Waverly!” _

_ Throwing caution out the window, Nicole leaped down the stairs, taking the steps two or three at a time. The beam of her flashlight danced madly along walls cracked by age, each of Waverly’s subsequent screams spurring her on with no regard for her own safety. _

_ She could smell something now, moist and ancient.  _

_ Putrid.  _

_ She reached the ground floor at record speed, feet skidding across a wet patch of cement before she managed to right herself. There was light here, lazy and motley with specks of dust, and in its drowsy glow, she found her girlfriend pressed into a corner, a broken piece of furniture held clutched in her fists in desperate defense. _

_ The thing advancing on her looked like a woman. At least from the waist up.  _

_ Below it, pale flesh gave way to scales, which scraped against the floor with a metallic sound as the creature slithered forward.  _

_ “Hey!” Nicole screamed, sighting down her gun. “This way!”  _

_ The creature turned, visage curtained by a flailing mass of hair the color of a raven’s feathers.  _

_ “Hey!” It mocked with Nicole’s own voice. “This way!” . _

_ Its face  _ shifted _ , hair paling to red as the sun rays kissed it, and when their gazes met, Nicole felt like she was looking in a mirror.  _

_ With a roar, the Alpha emptied her service weapon, shoulders jerking in surprise when Peacemaker’s throatier discharge followed her shots. _

_ The ground didn’t open, flames didn’t sweep up to consume the creature and drag its ashes back to Hell.  _

_ Instead the monster crumpled noiselessly to the ground, twitching weakly as it died.  _

_ “Oh, God.” When they approached it, Nicole shaking so badly it took her three attempts to slam a fresh magazine home, it was still wearing her face.  _

_ “Oh, God.” _

_ “I told you to wait in the car.” Wynonna flipped the creature onto its belly with one booted foot then raised her eyes to glare at Waverly.  _

_ Hiding its face made none of them feel better.  _

_ “You weren’t coming back.” Waverly tossed her makeshift weapon away, dusting her hands on the front of her jacket. “And I thought…” _

_ “You didn’t, and that’s the problem!” Wynonna began, but whatever else she said was lost to Nicole. She couldn’t unsee her dead eyes, or the hole Peacemaker had blown in the middle of her forehead.  _

_ It didn’t matter that it hadn’t been  _ her _ , not really, or that the Lamia - she heard Waverly tell Wynonna what the thing had been - was gone.  _

_ She didn’t remember falling on her knees, but she found herself on all fours - hands and knees painfully pressed into the concrete - bringing up what felt like all the food she’d ever eaten in her life. _

_ “Nicky.” When she glanced up through a veil of tears, Waverly was at her side, rubbing circles on her back, “It’s ok, baby. It’s over.”  _

_ “Just don’t do it again,” she hacked once her stomach had completely emptied. “Not without warning me first.”  _

_ “I promise.” _

*************************

“Just don’t do it again.” Waverly’s words found their way through her clouded mind, and Nicole nodded weakly. She hadn’t exactly dozed off, but the memory of their run-in with the Lamia had supplanted her surroundings for a moment. 

“I promise,” she coughed and Waverly helped her sit up, bringing a glass of water to her lips. 

Nicole meant every word, too. 

“Then will you let us help? Let... _ me _ … help?” 

Nicole had a mind to protest. but then a voice crept up on her - unbidden - from the only part of her past she wasn't actively trying to forget. 

_ Sometimes you can’t do things alone, Nicky. It’s okay to be weak, if you got the right people around you. _

Nicole knew the voice was right. She may not like to admit she needed help to solve something she had brought upon herself, but the right people were definitely by her side. 

“Okay,” she agreed. 

Waverly sat herself down on the edge of the bed, a smile to rival the prettiest sunrise dawning across her lips. 

“Rest for now.” The Omega closed the gap between them, pressing a chaste kiss to Nicole’s lips. “You’re safe with me, Nicole. I promise.” 

This time there was no room for doubt inside her heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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**Author's Note:**

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